Page 83 of The Book of Legends
Clothes tear away. Armor thuds to the floor. And then, we’re bare.
He stills.
His eyes devour me like he’s trying to memorize every detail—the curve of my hip, the swell of my breasts, the vulnerability in my parted lips. He touches me like a soldier touches sacred ground.
And then he lowers himself, mouth dragging between my thighs.
My moan is ragged and wild.
He doesn’t use finesse. But the intensity—theneed—makes me see stars. His tongue is rough and untrained, but insatiable. Hungry. His hands grip my thighs like I might disappear if he lets go. When I shatter beneath him, his name breaks from my lips like a prayer.
Then he’s above me again. Bigger.Wilder. Shaking with restraint.
He lines himself at my entrance, and for a second—just a second—his gaze flickers to mine, like he'sasking.
I nod.
And when he slides into me, my back arches with a cry. The stretch is exquisite. Devastating.
His jaw clenches. His whole body trembles.
And still, he doesn’t move.
His forehead presses to mine. “Tell me to stop.”
“I dare you,” I whisper, wrapping my legs around his waist.
Then he begins to move. Slowly. Too slow. Each stroke ismeasured, like he’s testing the rhythm. Finding the edges of pleasure he’s never known.
Gods, he’s never done this before.
Ifeelit in every stuttering breath, every unsure thrust that turns into somethingdeliberate. He’slearningme. And with every minute that passes, he becomesbrutal.Perfect.
I rake my nails down his back, tracing the ridges of old wounds. I kiss each scar like a vow. His hips slam into mine harder. Faster. His breath turns to growls against my skin.
“Selene…” he grits through clenched teeth, biting down on my shoulder. “You’re—undoing me.”
“I want to,” I moan. “Iwantyou to fall apart.”
His mouth crashes over mine. It’s not gentle. It’sclaiming.
We move like war—desperate, wild, clawing for something we’ll never name. We fall together in a tangle of sweat and bruises and broken moans. When we both shatter, it’s not quiet.
It’sviolent.
A gasp. A cry. A soul-deep quake.
And even in the aftershocks, his arms stay around me. His breath still fans against my neck.
He doesn’t let go.
Not yet.
His scent clingsto my skin.
Leather. Smoke. Ash. And something darker.
My breathing remains uneven. A delicious ache coils low in my thighs, sore in the way that reminds me he was there—inside me. Beside me, Kainen lies with one arm draped across my waist like he’s claimed territory. Like I’m his.
